Observations

I used to visit my grandparents in the country as a teenager.
This I wrote after observing the differences between country and city from my trips to visit them.
Contrast
Crowds rush by in a hum of faces,
And the city pulses its’ careless throb,
In a place devoid of warmth, running a losing race
Time and money are the things worth fighting for,
Friendship becomes a means to an end.
A battle on the way to winning the war.
Not so far a way are mountains,
Where misty secrets lie,
The voice of the river sweeping around
To a fragile sparrows cry.
Maddening still the pace of the hours
The lights, the glare of day to day city,
As the work and even the play devours.
Therapy keeps the bemused alive,
The poor content with their next to nothing,
While the vultures and predators prosper, thrive.
In a town where one watches the falling of night,
And tourists don’t come to stay,
Small shop owners smile as the fading light,
Means that they can close for the day.
With no place of safety, no comfort or peace,
The city clutches its lifeless victims,
Fear unending, deceit, pretending, it can never cease.
Greed is the diet of the upwardly mobile,
Hungry for the next opportune moment
To trample the dreams of the docile.

Heartbreak

I have found that nothing helps you write great poetry quiet like a broken heart. All I can say is I long for the day when I can only write semtimental drivell about how wonderful my man is. Unfortunatley that is not now... don't have one... and this poem came from the depths of my soul when I was absolutely shattered.

Sunset
Watching the sunset in the afternoon
Means that night will be upon us soon.
I sit and observe this bitter end,
The time has gone I can't pretend.
Spectacular colours drench the sky,
I shake my head through the tears I cry.
The thought occurs in a frightening way,
"Can there ever be another day?"
Shadows of navy pollute the air,
It's growing late and I struggle to care.
Yet somewhere, some place deep inside,
I pray that we can turn this tide,
And live in sunshine evermore,
Never having to face the dawn.
You let the light slip through your hand,
But it will return at your command.
As the last few rays are dying,
I will not ask why you aren't trying.
Darkness soon will reign supreme,
But I hang for life onto this last beam.
10.02.97

My Brother's Favourite

Swallowed In Bright

I hate almost every friend I've made,
Because they don't shine like you,
Now I know you're just too beautiful for me.
I spent all my time drowning in your light,
Laughing, crying soaking in sensations I never knew,
And for just a tiny moment, I was you, I was you.
To be alive is to be,
Nearly anyone at all but me,
But as you I could thrive.
I had visions, I had friends,
I had to love where would it end?
Wallowing in my radiant dullness
I weep to be near you.

Swallowed in the bright.

Poetry

Modest Dreams
Here I am with empty hands broken to the core
But I prefer this brokenness to the way I was before.
I won't take your empty pleasures,
Or drink what doesn't fill.
I will not call a life, a thing that only kills.
I don't want modest dreams,
That are all this earth provides.
I want the ever lasting joy
Eternity’s vastness hides
Don't give me modest dreams
Nice car, nice boy, nice job.
Don't offer me paltry delights short-lived
My happiness to rob.
Here I am heartsick and longing for my God
I'm weary from the battles
And every step I've trod.
But what can this world offer me,
That it won't take away.
And with my very life blood,
Its ransom I would pay.
God take me in my brokenness
Take my empty hand.
I know my pain will disappear,
The moment you command.
Take a heartsick girl tired of the fight
And with your loving hand
A different story write.
This world has modest dreams
To sell that cannot satisfy.
We have learned this lesson well,
So why do we still buy?
- 04.09.05